
Roadside, I read signs in the snowdrift,
in the lamppost, in the ocean’s jelly peaks,
Also from DIAGRAM/New Michigan Press, Mathias Svalina's chapbook Creation Myths:


dark entry into discotheque. the printer's son shimying against chain link fence with a backdrop of art school dropouts for the amusement of blond french marianne and blond english ziggy.

Thaddeus walked into the woods and asked the children twisting the heads of owls if they had seen a small girl in yellow pajamas. The three children were sitting against an oak tree with their legs stretched out, the snow stitched to their waists.

God, I could put out
your eyes I could
put out. I could wring
my hands, my snakes.

We needled our way into the evening soup like bright birds.
One girl lost a leg at the beginning of the narrative.
I held her hand and whispered about the avant-garde.